


Gift, or Curse?

by Madame_Xela



Series: Unexpected, and not at all Respectable [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Bilbo and Harry are twins, Bilbo has magic, Gen, Minor Character Death, Some angst, magic makes them age slower, not sorry, this is loosely based on a dream I had
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 10:36:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/673439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_Xela/pseuds/Madame_Xela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gandalf had looked them over several times as babes. If he found the source of their magic, he never said. ‘A gift’, he had told the worried parents in that mysterious way of his, ‘from the Valar’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift, or Curse?

**Author's Note:**

> Just...don't ask. I'm not even sure why I wrote this. This is a prequel of sorts to a dream I had, which I will also write.

The birth of Bilbo and Hartley Baggins was a celebrated event in Hobbiton. To be fair, any event was a celebrated event, but the birth of little hobbit babes was always special. And twins were almost unheard of in the shire. A rare, but extraordinary event indeed.

Bilbo and Hartley-‘call me Harry, or I will hurt you’-Baggins liked to divert from the norms of the shire (much to Bungo’s distress). Belladonna hadn’t cared what anyone said. She loved her boys when they were still growing in the womb and kept her bedridden for the last few months of her pregnancy. She loved her boys when they made her suffer almost eighteen hours of labor. She loved her boys when they cried to be fed in the early hours of the morning.

She loved her boys when they aged far slower than a normal hobbit (a few extra years of cuddling the tiny babes was a blessing once she realized that they would be her only children).

She loved her boys when they started using magic. Yes, magic. It wasn’t exactly the same kind of magic that her friend Gandalf used, but is wasn’t completely different either. They didn’t require a staff like Gandalf, but constant use of magic without something to channel it would tucker them out. Usually, they would use special twigs that Gandalf had brought for them.

Gandalf had looked them over several times as babes. If he found the source of their magic, he never said. ‘A gift’, he had told the worried parents in that mysterious way of his, ‘from the Valar’.

Bilbo and Harry grew up with a love of food and comfort and books. Throughout their prolonged childhood they embraced their Took-ish nature. They travelled through the woods using a map that Bilbo made himself; sometimes Harry would charm a broom to make travelling easier (or he would use said broom to fly about and do death defying tricks that left Bilbo giggling or threatening to tell their parents), and would more often than not stay out well past supper. Belladonna encouraged this, sometimes by joining them on a trek or two.  She did not ever see them fly on brooms.

With Fell Winter brought the untimely deaths of their parents at the ages of seventy nine and eighty two, the adventures stopped. How could they search for elves and dwarfs in the same woods where their parents had been taken from them?

Bilbo and Harry were barely over forty at the, adults in the eyes of hobbits, but they looked like mere tweens. No one knew what to do with them. Some thought they should live with family while some thought that they were old enough to live on their own. Some wanted nothing to do with them. Others blamed them for the harsh winter, claiming they had planned it and were at fault for every life taken that winter. They were a curse to Hobbiton.

They believed them.

Gandalf came and explained to them that they were not to blame for the winter or the deaths. The winter was a natural phenomenon. The ones to be held responsible for the deaths of the hobbits were the Orcs that had slain them. Bilbo and Harry were comforted, but did not stop thinking that they were at fault. That they had gotten their parents killed. 

‘You should go on adventures. Your dear mother would have wanted that for you.’ They did not adventure.

Adventures faded into memories.

Memories faded into wistful dreams.

Almost fifty years later, Gandalf returned, asking if they wanted to join him on an adventure… 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure why I renamed him Hartley. I think it sounds kind of hobbit-y though.


End file.
